The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go -
The crocus - till she rises -
The vassal of the snow -
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore -
Till bye and bye, these Bargemen
Walked - singing - on the shore
Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted form the sea -
Pinions - the Seraph’s wagon -
Pedestrian once - as we -
Night is the morning’s canvas -
Larceny - legacy -
Death - but our rapt attention
To immortality.
My figures fail to tell me
How far the village lies -
Whose peasants are the angels -
Whose cantons dot the skies -
My Classics vail their faces -
My faith that Dark adores -
Which from it’s solemn abbeys -
Such resurrection pours!
I piedi di chi cammina verso casa
Con sandali più gai vanno -
Il croco - finché non sorge -
Il vassallo della neve -
Le labbra all’Alleluia
Lunghi anni di pratica portarono -
Finché a poco a poco, questi Barcaioli
Camminarono - cantando - sulla riva
Le perle sono gli spiccioli del Tuffatore
Estorti al mare -
Le ali - il carro del Serafino -
Pedone un tempo - come noi -
La Notte è la tela del mattino -
Il furto - eredità -
La Morte - solo la nostra rapita attenzione
All’immortalità.
Le mie cifre non sanno dirmi
Quanto lontano è il villaggio -
I cui contadini sono gli angeli -
I cui cantoni punteggiano i cieli -
I miei Classici velano il volto -
La mia fede che il Buio adora -
Che dalle sue solenni abbazie -
Tale resurrezione riversa!
Thro’ lane it lay - thro’ bramble -
Thro’ clearing, and thro’ wood -
Banditti often passed us
Opon the lonely road -
The wolf came peering curious -
The Owl looked puzzled down -
The Serpent’s satin figure
Glid stealthily along -
The tempests touched our garments -
The lightning’s poinards gleamed -
Fierce from the crag above us
The hungry vulture screamed -
The satyr’s fingers beckoned -
The Valley murmured “Come” -
These were the mates -
This was the road
These Children fluttered home.
Per viottoli correva - per rovi -
Per radure, e per boschi -
Banditi spesso ci passavano accanto
Sulla strada solitaria -
Il lupo veniva a spiare curioso -
Il Gufo guardava giù perplesso -
La figura di raso del Serpente
Scivolava furtiva -
Le tempeste toccavano le nostre vesti -
I pugnali del lampo balenavano -
Feroce dalla rupe sopra di noi
Strideva l’avvoltoio affamato -
Le dita del satiro facevano cenno -
La Valle mormorava “Vieni” -
Questi erano i compagni -
Questa era la strada
Questi Bimbi volarono a casa.
When I count the seeds
That are sown beneath,
To bloom so, bye and bye —
When I con the people
Lain so low,
To be received as high —
When I believe the garden
Mortal shall not see —
Pick by faith its blossom
And avoid its Bee,
I can spare this summer, unreluctantly.
Quando conto i semi
Che sono seminati sotto,
Per fiorire così, più in là —
Quando studio le genti
Adagiate così in basso,
Per essere accolte così in alto —
Quando credo che il giardino
Mortale non vedrà —
Colgo per fede il suo fiore
Ed evito la sua Ape,
Posso rinunciare a questa estate, senza riluttanza.
Mama never forgets her birds,
Though in another tree —
She looks down just as often
And just as tenderly
As when her little mortal nest
With cunning care she wove —
If either of her “sparrows fall,“
She “notices,” above.
Mamma non dimentica mai i suoi uccelli,
Benché in un altro albero —
Guarda giù altrettanto spesso
E altrettanto teneramente
Come quando il suo piccolo nido mortale
Con cura sagace intrecciava —
Se uno dei suoi “passeri cade,“
Lei “se ne avvede,” lassù.
I shall know why, when time is over,
And I have ceased to wonder why ;
Christ will explain each separate anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
He will tell me what Peter promised,
And I, for wonder at his woe,
I shall forget the drop of anguish
That scalds me now, that scalds me now.
Saprò perché, quando il tempo sarà finito,
E avrò cessato di chiedermi perché ;
Cristo spiegherà ogni singola angoscia
Nella chiara aula del cielo.
Mi dirà ciò che Pietro promise,
E io, per lo stupore del suo strazio,
Dimenticherò la goccia d’angoscia
Che ora mi scotta, che ora mi scotta.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church —
I keep it, staying at Home —
With a Bobolink for a Chorister —
And an Orchard, for a Dome —
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice —
I just wear my Wings —
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton — sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman —
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at last —
I’m going, all along.
C’è chi osserva il Sabato andando in Chiesa —
Io lo osservo, restando a Casa —
Con un Bobolink per Corista —
E un Frutteto, per Cupola —
C’è chi osserva il Sabato in Cotta —
Io indosso solo le mie Ali —
E invece di suonare la Campana, per la Chiesa,
Il nostro piccolo Sagrestano — canta.
Dio predica, Ecclesiastico insigne —
E il sermone non è mai lungo,
Così invece di giungere in Cielo, alla fine —
Io ci sto andando, da sempre.
They leave us with the Infinite.
But He — is not a man —
His fingers are the size of fists —
His fists, the size of men —
And whom he foundeth, with his Arm
As Himmaleh, shall stand —
Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe
Poised lightly on his Hand,
So trust him, Comrade —
You for you, and I, for you and me
Eternity is ample,
And quick enough, if true.
Ci lasciano con l’Infinito.
Ma Egli — non è un uomo —
Le sue dita hanno la misura di pugni —
I suoi pugni, la misura di uomini —
E chi egli fonda, col suo Braccio
Come l’Himalaya, starà saldo —
L’Eterna Scarpa di Gibilterra
Posata lieve sulla sua Mano,
Fidati dunque di lui, Compagno —
Tu per te, e io, per te e per me
L’Eternità è ampia,
E abbastanza rapida, se vera.
God is a distant — stately Lover —
Woos, as He states us — by His Son —
Verily, a Vicarious Courtship —
“Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were such an One —
But, lest the Soul — like fair “Priscilla”
Choose the Envoy — and spurn the Groom —
Vouches, with hyperbolic archness —
“Miles”, and “John Alden” were Synonym —
Dio è un distante — maestoso Amante —
Corteggia, come Egli ci dichiara — tramite Suo Figlio —
In verità, un Corteggiamento Vicario —
“Miles”, e “Priscilla”, furono di tal Sorta —
Ma, perché l’Anima — come la bella “Priscilla”
Non scelga l’Inviato — e sdegni lo Sposo —
Garantisce, con iperbolica malizia —
“Miles”, e “John Alden” erano Sinonimo —
I gained it so —
By Climbing slow —
By Catching at the Twigs that grow
Between the Bliss — and me —
It hung so high
As well the Sky
Attempt by Strategy —
I said I gained it —
This — was all —
Look, how I clutch it
Lest it fall —
And I a Pauper go —
Unfitted by an instant’s Grace
For the Contented — Beggar’s face
I wore — an hour ago —
Lo guadagnai così —
Arrampicandomi lenta —
Afferrando i Ramoscelli che crescono
Tra la Beatitudine — e me —
Pendeva così in alto
Che tanto valeva il Cielo
Tentare per Strategia —
Dissi che l’avevo guadagnato —
Questo — fu tutto —
Guarda, come lo stringo
Perché non cada —
E io me ne vada Povera —
Resa inadatta dalla Grazia d’un istante
Al Contento — volto di Mendicante
Che portavo — un’ora fa —
Heaven is so far of the Mind
That were the Mind dissolved —
The Site — of it — by Architect
Could not again be proved —
‘Tis vast — as our Capacity —
As fair — as our idea —
To Him of adequate desire
No further ‘tis, than Here —
Il Cielo è a tal segno della Mente
Che fosse la Mente dissolta —
Il Sito — di esso — da Architetto
Non potrebbe di nuovo esser provato —
È vasto — quanto la nostra Capacità —
Bello — quanto la nostra idea —
Per Chi è di adeguato desiderio
Più lontano non è, che Qui —
To lose one’s faith — surpass
The loss of an Estate —
Because Estates can be
Replenished — faith cannot —
Inherited with Life —
Belief — but once — can be —
Annihilate a single clause —
And Being’s — Beggary —
Perdere la propria fede — supera
La perdita di un Patrimonio —
Perché i Patrimoni si possono
Ricostituire — la fede no —
Ereditata con la Vita —
La Credenza — una volta sola — può darsi —
Annientane una sola clausola —
E dell’Essere è — Mendicità —
Through the Dark Sod — as Education —
The Lily passes sure —
Feels her white foot — no trepidation —
Her faith — no fear —
Afterward — in the Meadow —
Swinging her Beryl Bell —
The Mold-life — all forgotten — now —
In Ecstasy — and Dell —
Attraverso la Zolla Scura — come Educazione —
Il Giglio passa sicuro —
Sente il suo bianco piede — nessuna trepidazione —
La sua fede — nessuna paura —
Dopo — nel Prato —
Dondolando la sua Campana di Berillo —
La vita nella Muffa — tutta dimenticata — ora —
In Estasi — e Valle —
You’ll know it — as you know ‘tis Noon —
By Glory —
As you do the Sun —
By Glory —
As you will in Heaven —
Know God the Father — and the Son.
By intuition, Mightiest Things
Assert themselves — and not by terms —
“I’m Midnight” — need the Midnight say —
“I’m Sunrise” — Need the Majesty?
Omnipotence — had not a Tongue —
His lisp — is Lightning — and the Sun —
His Conversation — with the Sea —
“How shall you know”?
Consult your Eye!
Lo saprai — come sai che è Mezzogiorno —
Dalla Gloria —
Come conosci il Sole —
Dalla Gloria —
Come in Cielo saprai —
Conoscere Dio Padre — e il Figlio.
Per intuizione, le Cose più Possenti
Si affermano da sé — e non a parole —
“Io sono la Mezzanotte” — deve dirlo la Mezzanotte —
“Io sono l’Aurora” — Ne ha bisogno la Maestà?
L’Onnipotenza — non aveva Lingua —
Il suo balbettio — è il Lampo — e il Sole —
La sua Conversazione — col Mare —
“Come lo saprai”?
Consulta il tuo Occhio!
I live with Him — I see His face —
I go no more away
For Visitor — or Sundown —
Death’s single privacy
The Only One — forestalling Mine —
And that — by Right that He
Presents a Claim invisible —
No wedlock — granted Me —
I live with Him — I hear His Voice —
I stand alive — Today —
To witness to the Certainty
Of Immortality —
Taught Me — by Time — the lower Way —
Conviction — Every day —
That Life like This — is stopless —
Be Judgment — what it may —
Vivo con Lui — vedo il Suo volto —
Non vado più via
Per Visita — o Tramonto —
Sola intimità della Morte
L’Unico — che precede la Mia —
E ciò — per il Diritto ch’Egli
Presenta una Pretesa invisibile —
Nessun connubio — a Me concesso —
Vivo con Lui — odo la Sua Voce —
Sto in vita — Oggi —
A testimoniare la Certezza
Dell’Immortalità —
Insegnata a Me — dal Tempo — la Via più bassa —
Convinzione — Ogni giorno —
Che una Vita come Questa — non ha sosta —
Sia il Giudizio — ciò che vuole —
You love the Lord — you cannot see —
You write Him — every day —
A little note — when you awake —
And further in the Day.
An Ample Letter — How you miss —
And would delight to see —
But then His House — is but a Step —
And Mine’s — in Heaven — You see.
Tu ami il Signore — che non puoi vedere —
Gli scrivi — ogni giorno —
Un biglietto — quando ti svegli —
E più avanti nel Giorno.
Un’Ampia Lettera — Quanto ti manca —
E che delizia sarebbe vederla —
Ma la Sua Casa — è solo un Passo —
E la Mia — è in Cielo — Vedi.
‘Tis true — They shut me in the Cold —
But then — Themselves were warm
And could not know the feeling ‘twas —
Forget it — Lord — of Them —
Let not my Witness hinder Them
In Heavenly esteem —
No Paradise could be — Conferred
Through Their beloved Blame —
The Harm They did — was short — And since
Myself — who bore it — do —
Forgive Them — Even as Myself —
Or else — forgive not me —
È vero — Mi chiusero nel Freddo —
Ma Loro — erano al caldo
E non potevano sapere che sensazione fosse —
Dimenticalo — Signore — a Loro —
Non lasci la mia Testimonianza ostacolarLi
Nella stima Celeste —
Nessun Paradiso potrebbe essere — Conferito
Attraverso la Loro amata Colpa —
Il Male che fecero — fu breve — E poiché
Io stessa — che lo portai — li —
Perdono — Come Me stessa —
Oppure — non perdonare me —
‘Tis One by One — the Father counts —
And then a Tract between
Set Cypherless — to teach the Eye
The Value of its Ten —
Until the peevish Student
Acquire the Quick of Skill —
Then Numerals are dowered back —
Adorning all the Rule —
‘Tis mostly Slate and Pencil —
And Darkness on the School
Distracts the Children’s fingers —
Still the Eternal Rule
Regards least Cypherer alike
With Leader of the Band —
And every separate Urchin’s Sum —
Is fashioned for his hand —
È Uno a Uno — che il Padre conta —
E poi un Tratto in mezzo
Lasciato senza Cifre — per insegnare all’Occhio
Il Valore del suo Dieci —
Finché lo Studente ritroso
Non acquisti il Vivo dell’Arte —
Poi i Numeri gli son ridotati —
Adornando tutta la Regola —
È perlopiù Lavagna e Matita —
E il Buio sulla Scuola
Distrae le dita dei Bambini —
Pure l’Eterna Regola
Guarda l’infimo Cifratore al pari
Del Capo della Schiera —
E la Somma di ogni singolo Monello —
È foggiata per la sua mano —
I cross till I am weary
A Mountain — in my mind —
More Mountains — then a Sea —
More Seas — And then
A Desert — find —
And My Horizon blocks
With steady — drifting — Grains
Of unconjectured quantity —
As Asiatic Rains —
Nor this — defeat my Pace —
It hinder from the West
But as an Enemy’s Salute
One hurrying to Rest —
What merit had the Goal —
Except there intervene
Faint Doubt — and far Competitor —
To jeopardize the Gain?
At last — the Grace in sight —
I shout unto my feet —
I offer them the Whole of Heaven
The instant that we meet —
They strive — and yet delay —
They perish — Do we die —
Or is this Death’s Experiment —
Reversed — in Victory?
Io attraverso finché non sono stanca
Una Montagna — nella mia mente —
Altre Montagne — poi un Mare —
Altri Mari — E poi
Un Deserto — trovo —
E il Mio Orizzonte si sbarra
Di Grani costanti — alla deriva —
Di quantità incongetturata —
Come Piogge Asiatiche —
Né questo — sconfigge il mio Passo —
Lo ostacola da Ovest
Ma come il Saluto di un Nemico
A chi si affretta al Riposo —
Che merito avrebbe la Meta —
Se non intervenissero
Fioco Dubbio — e Competitore lontano —
A mettere a rischio il Guadagno?
Infine — la Grazia in vista —
Grido ai miei piedi —
Offro loro l’Intero del Cielo
Nell’istante in cui ci incontriamo —
Si sforzano — eppure indugiano —
Periscono — Moriamo noi —
O è questo l’Esperimento della Morte —
Rovesciato — in Vittoria?
Trust in the Unexpected —
By this — was William Kidd
Persuaded of the Buried Gold —
As One had testified —
Through this — the old Philosopher —
His Talismanic Stone
Discerned — still withholden
To effort undivine —
‘Twas this — allured Columbus —
When Genoa — withdrew
Before an Apparition
Baptized America —
The Same — afflicted Thomas —
When Deity assured
’Twas better — the perceiving not —
Provided it believed —
Fiducia nell’Inatteso —
Da questa — fu William Kidd
Persuaso dell’Oro Sepolto —
Come Uno aveva testimoniato —
Per questa — il vecchio Filosofo —
La sua Pietra Talismanica
Discerse — ancora negata
A sforzo non divino —
Fu questa — ad allettare Colombo —
Quando Genova — si ritrasse
Davanti a un’Apparizione
Battezzata America —
La Stessa — afflisse Tommaso —
Quando la Deità assicurò
Ch’era meglio — il non percepire —
Purché si credesse —
He found my Being — set it up —
Adjusted it to place —
Then carved his name — upon it —
And bade it to the East
Be faithful — in his absence —
And he would come again —
With Equipage of Amber —
That time — to take it Home —
Egli trovò il mio Essere — lo eresse —
Lo aggiustò al suo posto —
Poi vi incise il suo nome — sopra —
E gli ordinò verso l’Est
Di restar fedele — in sua assenza —
E lui sarebbe tornato —
Con Equipaggio d’Ambra —
Quella volta — per portarlo a Casa —
It was too late for man,
But early yet for God ;
Creation impotent to help,
But prayer remained our side.
How excellent the heaven,
When earth cannot be had ;
How hospitable, then, the face
Of our old neighbor, God !
Era troppo tardi per l’uomo,
Ma presto ancora per Dio ;
La creazione impotente ad aiutare,
Ma la preghiera restava dalla nostra parte.
Com’è eccellente il cielo,
Quando la terra non si può avere ;
Com’è ospitale, allora, il volto
Del nostro vecchio vicino, Dio !
Only God — detect the Sorrow —
Only God —
The Jehovahs — are no Babblers —
Unto God —
God the Son — Confide it —
Still secure —
God the Spirit’s Honor —
Just as sure —
Solo Dio — scorge il Dolore —
Solo Dio —
I Geova — non sono Ciarlieri —
A Dio —
Dio Figlio — Confidalo —
Sempre al sicuro —
L’Onore di Dio Spirito —
Altrettanto certo —
Each Life Converges to some Centre —
Expressed — or still —
Exists in every Human Nature
A Goal —
Embodied scarcely to itself — it may be —
Too fair
For Credibility’s presumption
To mar —
Adored with caution — as a Brittle Heaven —
To reach
Were hopeless, as the Rainbow’s Raiment
To touch —
Yet persevered toward — sure — for the Distance —
How high —
Unto the Saint’s slow diligence —
The Sky —
Ungained — it may be — by a Life’s low Venture —
But then —
Eternity enable the endeavoring
Again.
Ogni Vita Converge a un qualche Centro —
Espresso — o taciuto —
Esiste in ogni Umana Natura
Una Meta —
Incarnata appena a se stessa — può darsi —
Troppo bella
Perché la presunzione della Credibilità
La guasti —
Adorata con cautela — come un Fragile Cielo —
Da raggiungere
Senza speranza, come la Veste dell’Arcobaleno
Da toccare —
Eppure perseguita — certo — ché la Distanza —
Quanto alta —
Alla lenta diligenza del Santo —
Il Cielo —
Non conquistata — può darsi — dalla bassa Impresa d’una Vita —
Ma allora —
L’Eternità consente il tentativo
Ancora.
The Heaven vests for Each
In that small Deity
It craved the grace to worship
Some bashful Summer’s Day —
Half shrinking from the Glory
It importuned to see
Till these faint Tabernacles drop
In full Eternity —
How imminent the Venture —
As one should sue a Star —
For His mean sake to leave the Row
And entertain Despair —
A Clemency so common —
We almost cease to fear —
Enabling the minutest —
And furthest — to adore —
Il Cielo si riveste per Ciascuno
In quella piccola Deità
Che implorò la grazia di adorare
Un timido Giorno d’Estate —
Mezzo ritraendosi dalla Gloria
Che importunò di vedere
Finché questi fiochi Tabernacoli cadono
Nella piena Eternità —
Quanto imminente l’Azzardo —
Come supplicare una Stella —
Perché per il Suo umile amore lasci la Fila
E accolga la Disperazione —
Una Clemenza così comune —
Che quasi cessiamo di temere —
Che concede al più minuto —
E al più remoto — di adorare —
Out of sight? What of that?
See the Bird — reach it!
Curve by Curve — Sweep by Sweep —
Round the Steep Air —
Danger! What is that to Her?
Better ‘tis to fail — there —
Than debate — here —
Blue is Blue — the World through —
Amber — Amber — Dew — Dew —
Seek — Friend — and see —
Heaven is shy of Earth — that’s all —
Bashful Heaven — thy Lovers small —
Hide — too — from thee —
Fuori di vista? E che importa?
Guarda l’Uccello — raggiungerla!
Curva su Curva — Volo su Volo —
Attorno all’Aria Scoscesa —
Pericolo! Che cos’è per Lei?
Meglio è fallire — là —
Che discutere — qui —
Blu è Blu — per tutto il Mondo —
Ambra — Ambra — Rugiada — Rugiada —
Cerca — Amico — e vedi —
Il Cielo è schivo con la Terra — ecco tutto —
Cielo ritroso — i tuoi piccoli Amanti —
Si nascondono — anch’essi — da te —
It’s easy to invent a Life —
God does it — every Day —
Creation — but the Gambol
Of His Authority —
It’s easy to efface it —
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity —
The Perished Patterns murmur —
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed — inserting Here — a Sun —
There — leaving out a Man —
È facile inventare una Vita —
Dio lo fa — ogni Giorno —
La Creazione — non che il Trastullo
Della Sua Autorità —
È facile cancellarla —
La parsimoniosa Divinità
Potrebbe a stento concedere Eternità
Alla Spontaneità —
I Modelli Periti mormorano —
Ma il Suo Piano Imperturbato
Procede — inserendo Qui — un Sole —
Là — tralasciando un Uomo —
You taught me Waiting with Myself —
Appointment strictly kept —
You taught me fortitude of Fate —
This — also — I have learnt —
An Altitude of Death, that could
No bitterer debar
Than Life — had done — before it —
Yet — there is a Science more —
The Heaven you know — to understand
That you be not ashamed
Of Me — in Christ’s bright Audience
Upon the further Hand —
Mi insegnasti l’Attesa con Me Stessa —
Appuntamento rigorosamente osservato —
Mi insegnasti la fortezza del Fato —
Questo — anche — l’ho imparato —
Un’Altitudine di Morte, che non poteva
Escludere più amaramente
Di quanto la Vita — avesse fatto — prima —
Eppure — c’è una Scienza in più —
Il Cielo che conosci — comprendere
Perché tu non abbia vergogna
Di Me — nella luminosa Udienza di Cristo
Sulla Mano più lontana —
Given in Marriage unto Thee
Oh thou Celestial Host —
Bride of the Father and the Son
Bride of the Holy Ghost.
Other Betrothal shall dissolve —
Wedlock of Will, decay —
Only the Keeper of this Ring
Conquer Mortality —
Data in Matrimonio a Te
Oh tu Ospite Celeste —
Sposa del Padre e del Figlio
Sposa dello Spirito Santo.
Ogni altro Fidanzamento si dissolverà —
Il Connubio della Volontà, decadrà —
Solo il Custode di questo Anello
Vince la Mortalità —
All Circumstances are the Frame
In which His Face is set —
All Latitudes exist for His
Sufficient Continent —
The Light His Action, and the Dark
The Leisure of His Will —
In Him Existence serve or set
A Force illegible.
Ogni Circostanza è la Cornice
In cui il Suo Volto è posto —
Ogni Latitudine esiste per il Suo
Sufficiente Continente —
La Luce il Suo Atto, e il Buio
L’Agio della Sua Volontà —
In Lui l’Esistenza serve o tramonta
Una Forza illeggibile.
The Only News I know
Is Bulletins all Day
From Immortality.
The Only Shows I see —
Tomorrow and Today —
Perchance Eternity —
The Only One I meet
Is God — The Only Street —
Existence — This traversed
If Other News there be —
Or Admirable Show —
I’ll tell it You —
Le Sole Notizie che conosco
Sono Bollettini tutto il Giorno
Dall’Immortalità.
I Soli Spettacoli che vedo —
Domani e Oggi —
Forse l’Eternità —
Il Solo che incontro
È Dio — La Sola Via —
L’Esistenza — Questa percorsa
Se Altre Notizie vi saranno —
O Spettacolo Mirabile —
Ve lo dirò —
Just as He spoke it from his Hands
This Edifice remain —
A Turret more, a Turret less
Dishonor his Design —
According as his skill prefer
It perish, or endure —
Content, soe’er, it ornament
His absent character.
Così come Egli lo pronunciò dalle sue Mani
Questo Edificio resti —
Una Torretta in più, una Torretta in meno
Disonora il suo Disegno —
Secondo che la sua arte preferisca
Perisca, o duri —
Pago, comunque sia, d’ornare
Il suo assente carattere.
The Sun and Moon must make their haste —
The Stars express around
For in the Zones of Paradise
The Lord alone is burned —
His Eye, it is the East and West —
The North and South when He
Do concentrate His Countenance
Like Glow Worms, flee away —
Oh Poor and Far —
Oh Hindred Eye
That hunted for the Day —
The Lord a Candle entertains
Entirely for Thee —
Il Sole e la Luna devono affrettarsi —
Le Stelle s’affrettano intorno
Perché nelle Zone del Paradiso
Il Signore soltanto è acceso —
Il Suo Occhio, è l’Oriente e l’Occidente —
Il Nord e il Sud quando Egli
Concentra il Suo Volto
Come Lucciole, fuggono via —
Oh Povero e Lontano —
Oh Occhio Impedito
Che andava a caccia del Giorno —
Il Signore una Candela mantiene
Interamente per Te —
Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance — Grace — to Me —
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year — A trait bestow
To make Me fairest of the Earth —
The Waiting — then — will seem so worth
I shall impute with half a pain
The blame that I was chosen — then —
Time to anticipate His Gaze —
It’s first — Delight — and then — Surprise —
The turning o’er and o’er my face
For Evidence it be the Grace —
He left behind One Day — So less
He seek Conviction, That — be This —
I only must not grow so new
That He’ll mistake — and ask for me
Of me — when first unto the Door
I go — to Elsewhere go no more —
I only must not change so fair
He’ll sigh — “The Other — She — is Where?”
The Love, tho’, will array me right
I shall be perfect — in His sight —
If He perceive the other Truth —
Upon an Excellenter Youth —
1012
How sweet I shall not lack in Vain —
But gain — thro’ loss — Through Grief — obtain —
The Beauty that reward Him best —
The Beauty of Demand — at Rest —
Più degna di vederLo, potrò essere
Per il lungo Impedimento — Grazia — per Me —
Con Estati, e con Inverni, crescere,
Qualche Anno che passa — un tratto donare
Da farmi la più bella della Terra —
L’Attesa — allora — parrà valere tanto
Che imputerò con mezza pena
La colpa d’essere stata scelta — allora —
Tempo d’anticipare il Suo Sguardo —
Dapprima — Diletto — e poi — Sorpresa —
Il rigirare e rigirare il mio volto
In cerca di Prova che sia la Grazia —
Che lasciò dietro Un Giorno — Perché meno
Cerchi Conferma, Quella — sia Questa —
Soltanto non devo farmi così nuova
Che Lui s’inganni — e chieda di me
A me — quando la prima volta alla Porta
Andrò — per non andare Altrove mai più —
Soltanto non devo mutare così bella
Che sospiri — “L’Altra — Lei — è Dove?”
L’Amore, però, mi vestirà a dovere
Sarò perfetta — al Suo sguardo —
Se scorgerà l’altra Verità —
Sopra una più Eccellente Giovinezza —
1012
Che dolcezza non mancherò in Vano —
Ma guadagnare — per perdita — Per Dolore — ottenere —
La Bellezza che meglio Lo ricompensa —
La Bellezza della Richiesta — in Quiete —
Up Life’s Hill with my little Bundle
If I prove it steep —
If a Discouragement withhold me —
If my newest step
Older feel than the Hope that prompted —
Spotless be from blame
Heart that proposed as Heart that accepted
Homelessness, for Home —
Su per il Colle della Vita col mio piccolo Fardello
Se lo trovo ripido —
Se uno Scoraggiamento mi trattiene —
Se il mio passo più nuovo
Si sente più vecchio della Speranza che lo spinse —
Immacolato sia da biasimo
Il Cuore che propose come il Cuore che accettò
L’esser senza Dimora, per Dimora —
Far from Love the Heavenly Father
Leads the Chosen Child,
Oftener through Realm of Briar
Than the Meadow mild.
Oftener by the Claw of Dragon
Than the Hand of Friend
Guides the Little One predestined
To the Native Land.
Lontano dall’Amore il Padre Celeste
guida il Fanciullo Eletto,
più spesso per Regno di Rovi
che per il Prato mite.
Più spesso con l’Artiglio del Drago
che con la Mano dell’Amico
guida il Piccolo predestinato
alla Terra Natale.
I never saw a Moor—
I never saw the Sea—
Yet know I how the Heather looks
And what a Billow be.
I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in Heaven—
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the Checks were given—
Non ho mai visto una Brughiera—
Non ho mai visto il Mare—
Eppure so come appare l’Erica
E che cosa sia un’Onda.
Non ho mai parlato con Dio,
Né sono stata in visita in Cielo—
Eppure son certa del luogo
Come se i Biglietti fossero dati—
The Soul should always stand ajar
That if the Heaven inquire
He will not be obliged to wait
Or shy of troubling Her
Depart, before the Host have slid
The Bolt unto the Door —
To search for the accomplished Guest,
Her Visitor, no more —
L’Anima dovrebbe sempre star socchiusa
Ché se il Cielo domanda
Non sia costretto ad aspettare
O timido di disturbarLa
Parta, prima che l’Ospitante abbia spinto
Il Chiavistello sulla Porta —
Per cercare l’Ospite compiuto,
Il Suo Visitatore, non più —
The Life we have is very great.
The Life that we shall see
Surpasses it, we know, because
It is Infinity.
But when all Space has been beheld
And all Dominion shown
The smallest Human Heart’s extent
Reduces it to none.
La Vita che abbiamo è molto grande.
La Vita che vedremo
La supera, lo sappiamo, perché
È Infinità.
Ma quando tutto lo Spazio sarà contemplato
E ogni Dominio mostrato
L’estensione del più piccolo Cuore Umano
La riduce a nulla.
My God — He sees thee —
Shine thy best —
Fling up thy Balls of Gold
Till every Cubit play with thee
And every Crescent hold —
Elate the Acre at his feet —
Upon his Atom swim —
Oh Sun — but just a Second’s right
In thy long Race with him!
Mio Dio — Egli ti vede —
Splendi al tuo meglio —
Lancia in alto le tue Sfere d’Oro
Finché ogni Cubito giochi con te
E ogni Crescente regga —
Esalta l’Acro ai suoi piedi —
Sul suo Atomo nuota —
Oh Sole — solo il diritto d’un Secondo
Nella tua lunga Corsa con lui!
Whatever it is — she has tried it —
Awful Father of Love —
Is not Ours the chastising —
Do not chastise the Dove —
Not for Ourselves, petition —
Nothing is left to pray —
When a subject is finished —
Words are handed away —
Only lest she be lonely
In thy beautiful House
Give her for her Transgression
License to think of us —
Qualunque cosa sia — lei l’ha provata —
Tremendo Padre dell’Amore —
Non è Nostro il castigare —
Non castigare la Colomba —
Non per Noi, la supplica —
Nulla resta da pregare —
Quando un soggetto è concluso —
Le Parole vengono consegnate via —
Solo perché non sia sola
Nella tua bella Casa
Dalle per la sua Trasgressione
Licenza di pensare a noi —
I cannot see my soul but know ‘tis there
Nor ever saw his house nor furniture,
Who has invited me with him to dwell;
But a confiding guest consult as well,
What raiment honor him the most,
That I be adequately dressed,
For he insures to none
Lest men specified adorn
Procuring him perpetual drest
By dating it a sudden feast.
Non posso vedere la mia anima ma so ch’è là
Né mai vidi la sua casa né la mobilia,
Di chi m’ha invitata a dimorare con lui;
Ma da ospite fiduciosa consulto pure,
Quale veste più lo onori,
Perch’io sia adeguatamente vestita,
Poiché egli non assicura nessuno
Perché uomini designati non adornino
Procurandogli perpetua veste
Datandola improvvisa festa.
How brittle are the Piers
On which our Faith doth tread —
No Bridge below doth totter so —
Yet none hath such a Crowd.
It is as old as God —
Indeed — ‘twas built by him —
He sent his Son to test the Plank,
And he pronounced it firm.
Come fragili sono i Piloni
Su cui la nostra Fede cammina —
Nessun Ponte quaggiù vacilla tanto —
Eppure nessuno ha tale Folla.
È antico quanto Dio —
Anzi — fu costruito da lui —
Mandò suo Figlio a saggiare l’Asse,
Ed egli la dichiarò salda.
To mend each tattered Faith
There is a needle fair
Though no appearance indicate —
‘Tis threaded in the Air —
And though it do not wear
As if it never Tore
’Tis very comfortable indeed
And spacious as before —
Per rammendare ogni lacera Fede
C’è un ago leggiadro
Benché nessuna apparenza l’indichi —
È infilato nell’Aria —
E benché non paia consunta
Come se mai si fosse Strappata
È assai confortevole invero
E spaziosa come prima —
The Road was lit with Moon and star —
The Trees were bright and still —
Descried I — by the distant Light
A Traveller on a Hill —
To magic Perpendiculars
Ascending, though Terrene —
Unknown his shimmering ultimate —
But he indorsed the sheen —
La Strada era accesa di Luna e stella —
Gli Alberi erano lucenti e immoti —
Scorsi — alla Luce distante
Un Viandante sopra un Colle —
A magiche Perpendicolari
Ascendente, benché Terreno —
Ignota la sua meta scintillante —
Ma egli avallava il fulgore —
It came his turn to beg —
The begging for the life
Is different from another Alms
’Tis Penury in Chief —
I scanned his narrow realm
I gave him leave to live
Lest Gratitude revive the snake
Though smuggled his reprieve
Venne il suo turno di mendicare —
Il mendicare per la vita
È diverso da ogni altra Elemosina
È Penuria in Capo —
Scrutai il suo angusto regno
Gli diedi licenza di vivere
Perché la Gratitudine non ravvivasse la serpe
Benché contrabbandata la sua grazia
I groped for him before I knew
With solemn nameless need
All other bounty sudden chaff
For this foreshadowed Food
Which others taste and spurn and sneer —
Though I within suppose
That consecrated it could be
The only Food that grows
Lo cercai a tentoni prima di sapere
Con solenne bisogno senza nome
Ogni altra grazia d’improvviso pula
Per questo presagito Cibo
Che altri assaggiano e sdegnano e scherniscono —
Benché io dentro di me supponga
Che consacrato esso potrebbe essere
Il solo Cibo che cresce
The little notes shall go as fast as steam can take them.
Our hearts already went.
Would we could mail our faces for your dear encouragement.
Remember The longest day that God appoints
Will finish with the sun.
Anguish can travel to it’s stake,
And then it must return.
I biglietti andranno veloci quanto il vapore può portarli.
I nostri cuori sono già andati.
Potessimo spedire i nostri volti per il vostro caro incoraggiamento.
Ricorda Il giorno più lungo che Dio assegna
Finirà con il sole.
L’angoscia può viaggiare fino al suo rogo,
E poi deve tornare.
DEAR AUSTIN,—… I was so glad to get your letter. I had been making calls all Saturday afternoon, and came home very tired, and a little disconsolate, so your letter was more than welcome… . Oh Austin, you don’t know how we all wished for you yesterday. We had such a splendid sermon from Professor Park—I never heard anything like it, and don’t expect to again, till we stand at the great white throne, and “he reads from the Book, the Lamb’s Book.” The students and chapel people all came to our church, and it was very full, and still, so still the buzzing of a fly would have boomed like a cannon. And when it was all over, and that wonderful man sat down, people stared at each other, and looked as wan and wild as if they had seen a spirit, and wondered they had not died. How I wish you had heard him—I thought of it all the time… .
MR. BOWDOIN,—If all these leaves were altars, and on every one a prayer that Currer Bell might be saved, and you were God—would you answer it?
Mar. Bowdoin, who was considered by the young girls at that time “a confirmed bachelor,” also received the accompanying valentine from Emily.
This little: poem was enclosed in the foregoing letter:—
Truth is as old as God, His twin identity— And will endure as long as He, A co-eternity, And perish on the day That He is borne away From mansion of the universe, A lifeless Deity.
Other verses, sent at different times, were written in the same general hand,—that of the early middle period, from about 1863 to 1870; among them:—
“They have not chosen me,” he said, “But I have chosen them.” Brave, broken-hearted statement Uttered in Bethlehem!
I could not have told it, But since Jesus dared, Sovereign! know a daisy Thy dishonor shared.
LETTER TO MR. SAMUEL BOWLES, facsimile
Just once—oh! least request! Could adamant refuse So small a grace, So scanty put, Such agonizing terms?
Would not a God of flint Be conscious of a sigh, As down his heaven dropt remote, “Just once, sweet Deity?”
A spray of white pine was enclosed with this note:—
A feather from the whippoorwill That everlasting sings! Whose galleries are sunrise, Whose opera the springs, Whose emerald nest the ages spin Of mellow, murmuring thread, Whose beryl egg, what school boys-hunt In “recess” overhead!
I hasten to you, Mary, because no moment must be lost when a heart is breaking, for though it broke so long, each time is newer than the last, if it broke truly. To be willing that I should speak to you was so generous, dear.
Sorrow almost resents love, it is so inflamed.
I am glad if the broken words helped you. I had not hoped so much, I felt so faint in uttering them, thinking of your great pain. Love makes us “heavenly” without our trying in the least. ‘Tis easier than a Saviour—it does not stay on high and call us to its distance; its low “Come unto me” begins in every place. It makes but one mistake, it tells us it is “rest”—perhaps its toil is rest, but what we have not known we shall know again, that divine “again” for which we are all breathless.
I am glad you “work.” Work is a bleak redeemer, but it does redeem; it tires the flesh so that can’t tease the spirit.
Dear “Mr. Sam” is very near, these midwinter days. When purples come on Pelham, in the afternoon, we say “Mr. Bowles’s colors.” I spoke to him once of his Gem chapter, and the beautiful eyes rose till they were out of reach of mine, in some hallowed fathom. Not that he goes—we love him more who led us while he stayed. Beyond earth’s trafficking frontier, for what he moved, he made.
Mother is timid and feeble, but we keep her with us. She thanks you for remembering her, and never forgets you… . Your sweet “and left me all alone,” consecrates your lips.
DEAR MARY,—To have been the mother of the beautiful face, is of itself fame, and the look of Arabia in the eyes is like Mr. Samuel. “Mr. Samuel” is his memorial name. “Speak, that we may see thee,” and Gabriel no more ideal than his swift eclipse. Thank you for the beauty, which I reluctantly return, and feel like committing a “startling fraud” in that sweet direction. If her heart is as magical as her face, she will wreck many a spirit, but the sea is ordained.
Austin looked at her long and earnestly.
“Yes, it is Sam’s child.” His Cashmere confederate. It is best, dear, you have so much to do. Action is redemption.
“And again a little while and ye shall not see me,” Jesus confesses is temporary.
Thank you indeed.
Dear little F——‘s note received, and shall write her soon.
Meanwhile, we wrap her in our heart to keep her tight and warm.
… Uncle told us you were too busy. Fold your little hands—the heart is the only workman we cannot excuse.
… Gratitude is not the mention of a tenderness, but its mute appreciation, deeper than we reach—all our Lord demands, who sizes better knows than we. Willing unto death, if only we perceive He die.
DEAR CHILDREN,—The little notes shall go as fast as steam can take them.
Our hearts already went. Would we could mail our faces for your dear encouragement.
Remember
The longest day that God appoints Will finish with the sun. Anguish can travel to its stake, And then it must return.
I am in bed to-day—a curious place for me, and cannot write as well as if I was firmer, but love as well, and long more. Tell us all the load. Amherst’s little basket is never so full but it holds more. That’s a basket’s cause. Not a flake assaults my birds but it freezes me. Comfort, little creatures—whatever befall us, this world is but this world. Think of that great courageous place we have never seen!
Write at once, please, I am so full of grief and surprise and physical weakness. I cannot speak until I know.
DEAR COUSINS,—Did you know there had been a fire here, and that but for a whim of the wind Austin and Vinnie and Emily would have all been homeless? But perhaps you saw The Republican.
We were waked by the ticking of the bells,—the bells tick in Amherst for a fire, to tell the firemen.
I sprang to the window, and each side of the curtain saw that awful sun. The moon was shining high at the time, and the birds singing like trumpets.
Vinnie came soft as a moccasin, “Don’t be afraid, Emily, it is only the fourth of July.”
I did not tell that I saw it, for I thought if she felt it best to deceive, it must be that it was.
She took hold of my hand and led me into mother’s room. Mother had not waked, and Maggie was sitting by her. Vinnie left us a moment, and I whispered to Maggie, and asked her what it was.
“Only Stebbins’s barn, Emily”; but I knew that the right and left of the village was on the arm of Stebbins’s barn. I could hear buildings falling, and oil exploding, and people walking and talking gayly, and cannon soft as velvet from parishes that did not know that we were burning up.
And so much lighter than day was it, that I saw a caterpillar measure a leaf far down in the orchard; and Vinnie kept saying bravely, “It’s only the fourth of July.”
It seemed like a theatre, or a night in London, or perhaps like chaos. The innocent dew falling “as if it thought no evil,” … and sweet frogs prattling in the pools as if there were no earth.
At seven people came to tell us that the fire was stopped, stopped by throwing sound houses in as one fills a well.
Mother never waked, and we were all grateful; we knew she would never buy needle and thread at Mr. Cutler’s store, and if it were Pompeii nobody could tell her.
The post-office is in the old meeting-house where L—— and I went early to avoid the crowd, and——fell asleep with the bumble-bees and the Lord God of Elijah.
Vinnie’s “only the fourth of July” I shall always remember. I think she will tell us so when we die, to keep us from being afraid.
Footlights cannot improve the grave, only immortality.
Forgive me the personality; but I knew, I thought, our peril was yours.
Love for you each.
Than Heaven more remote, For Heaven is the root, But these the flitted seed, More flown indeed Than ones that never were, Or those that hide, and are.
What madness, by their side, A vision to provide Of future days They cannot praise.
My soul, to find them, come, They cannot call, they’re dumb, Nor prove, nor woo, But that they have abode Is absolute as God, And instant, too.
Is it too late to express my sorrow for my grieved friend?
Though the first moment of loss is eternity, other eternities remain
Though the great waters sleep That they are still the deep We cannot doubt. No vacillating God Ignited this abode To put it out.
We are much grieved for the sufferings of the little one, which are so artlessly undeserved, and beg her mama to assure her of our tender sympathy.
The odor of the flower might please her, as these little beings are only “on a furlough” from Paradise.
With love for the mama, and sorrow for her weariness,
Though tendered by a stranger, the fruit will be forgiven.
Valor in the dark is my Maker’s code.
DEAR FRIEND,—I hope you may know with what unspeakable tenderness we think of you and of your dear child.
Were it any kingdom but the “Kingdom of Heaven,” how distant!
But my heart breaks—I can say no more.
Aunt Katie’s rose had many thorns, but it is still a rose, and has borne the extremities of a flower with ethereal patience—and every, deference to her is so sweetly deserved, we do not call it courtesy, but only recognition. It is sweeter that noon should be fair, than that morning should, because noon is the latest, and yet your morning had its dew you would not exchange. Thank you for telling us of your triumphs.
“Peace hath her victories, no less than War.”
Thank you for speaking so tenderly of our latest lost. We had hoped the persuasions of the spring, added to our own, might delay his going, but they came too late. “I met,” said he in his last note, “a crocus and a snowdrop in my yesterday’s walk,” but the sweet beings outlived him. I thought the churchyard Tarrytown, when I was a child, but now I trust ‘tis Trans—
In this place of shafts, I hope you may remain unharmed.
I congratulate you upon your children, and themselves upon you.
To have had such daughters is sanctity—to have had such a mother, divine. To still have her—but tears forbid me. My own is in the grave. “So loved her that he died for her,” says the explaining Jesus.
Why should we censure Othello, when the criterion Lover says, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me”?
Music had always charm for Emily Dickinson. Frequently, when I had been singing, or playing upon the piano at her request, a dainty note would come in to me, with a glass of wine, or a rare rose; in one instance a cream whip, with the single line, “Whom He loveth He chasteneth,”—of which the application might have been taken in various ways.
I can never forget the twilight seclusion of the old drawing-room, the square piano in its corner, the ancient mahogany furniture, and Emily just outside the door, her dress a spot of white in the dim hall. With the waning afternoon, I would play one thing and another, or sing melodies which often sounded too light and modern and sunshiny for surroundings so like a dreamy corner of the past. At first it seemed to me as if a visitor from another world had alighted for a time, wishing, for some inscrutable reason, to be entertained on a foreign planet. Later, it became not only entirely natural, but so much a habit that I should have missed my solitary recitals quite as much as my often invisible auditor.
Other notes to me, having especial reference to particular persons or occasions, are not of sufficient general interest to be given here.
As her unique life drew toward its close, she became, for the last two years, a semi-invalid,—she who had always rejoiced in strength and bravery enough for her own need, and that of all her friends.
Only a handful of notes remains, written during the final weeks while Emily brightened the old house with her airy, yet forceful and brilliant personality, for, even ill, she was a pervasive presence.
Upon the death of Professor Tuckerman, March 15, 1886, she wrote:—